Clash of the Titans
by A Beautiful Breakdown
Summary: Two power houses come collide; it's a fight for power on the Hogwarts school grounds. A short story of one boy who deems himself tough enough to start a fight with a young Bellatrix Black. Who will win, the prize Black child, or the angst were boy?


The wind whipped through the trees like a pack of howling and ravenous wolves. Day quickly turned into night, and the suns rays hidden beneath the distanced mountains crept up into the sky, tainting it with a blood red hue. The pale blue seeped away, stolen by the calling night and the death which lingered in the air. Faintly the stars popped into existence, fading in as the transition between night and day slowly came into completion. The willow lie still, shadows cast upon it's enormous trunk, the ground and the forest lie still. A crisp blanket of snow lie covering the dead grass and mud left from autumn. The warm seasons now past, winter crept in with its endlessly piercing cold. The thick blanket lie untouched, not even the willows branches had fallen to disturb the calmed powdered snow. The day was still, the calm after a storm, yet in the air there hung restlessness, something was stirring. An abundance of impatience could be felt, like the forest was awaiting some sort of tragedy. The trees felt the shaking of power within the ground, their barren limbs left them naked and vulnerable to the world. Mother Nature herself screamed in agony as two creatures made their way upon the ground. The deep snow became packed beneath their feet, coldness setting in around their ankles. Two students, one male, one female, they stood motionless before one another, eyes cold like steel. Above them the whomping willow began to creek, its branches stiff from cold and their lack of movement over the weeks. Groaning like a waking giant the tree stirred from its slumber, branches thrashing through the air. No longer could the beast lie still, anxious as it struck its heavy limbs upon the ground. Soft powder lifted into the air leaving the spot where the heavy branch had fallen bare and brown. Flakes of bark fell like heavy dark snowflakes to litter the ground, leaving the snow to look dirty. Yet neither figure appeared bothered, neither noticed how close they stood from apparent danger. The world was nothing more then the space they occupied, all outside forces, were nothing more then distant annoyances which proved easily ignored.

The female stood, a ravishing beauty, her raven hair fell down her back, her features well defined. She was intoxicating, her skin as pale as the driven snow, amplified by her dark hair. The harsh wind which licked at her face brought a rosy tint to her cheeks, and as the coldness seeped into her body she remained unaffected by its piercing nature. Her heart was a stone, a hard block of ice which would never melt. She was the epitome of cold itself. Black robes rustled about her form as they hung loosely about her shoulders. White shirt hung from her skirt in a haphazard manner, the top buttons undone while a scarf of knitted silver and green wound its way about her neck. Her legs remained bare, open to Jack Frost's nip as her socks climbed up about her knees. Where she stood the ground appeared to ache, the willow sweeping the sky with its heavy branches. The young woman was Bellatrix Black, a woman whose soul was as dark as her name. With perfect posture she stood, demanding of respect, hands lying at her side lifelessly. Her eyes remained fixed upon the boy, watching him as he stood before her, an opponent in arms. This cocky bastard had confronted her with a deathwish. His deluded fantasies gave him the notion that he might actually be capable of defeating Bellatrix in a fight. Yes she did appear quite smaller then he, her body curved and shaped like an exotic dancer. Her appearance gave her the sex appeal she needed whilst leading those who underestimated her to believe she was nothing more then a delicate flower. How sadly men were mistaken, the eldest daughter within her family she had been raised as her father would his son. Her achievements were rewarded and her follies punished severely. She was his pride, his one joy in life, the daughter he molded and shaped into the warrior he had dreamed he would have as a son. Her arrogance she learned from him, her persistence and determination, she had learned from him. He was a powerful man, one which she looked up to, and one which many feared. Now in her life she strived to become her father's image. Power drove her. She took ever precaution to maintain her position once it was acquired, Always climbing higher upon the ladder of power. Her own faults she was unable to see, for in her world everything was solved by a violent act, never by words. Narcissa was more indirect, cautious never to allow herself to become directly linked to anything she might instigate. What Bellatrix lacked in verbal skills Narcissa carried in abundance. It was one of Bellatrix's hidden faults, her passion, her anger, they got a head of reason and she became a monster. Each powerful in her own way, Bellatrix often saw fault in Narcissa's actions. Complex thought and strategy were not how this young beauty worked, oh no, and that was the reason she stood there below the willow, wind burning her flesh, threatening her with frost bite.

The young man on the other hand did not enter the school with the same prestigious name as his opponent. His auburn hair tucked itself under in soft curls at its ends. Strands fell within his eyes as the wind knocked it about. He was a tall, handsome young man, shoulders broad, yet hidden beneath his heavy leather jacket. His eyes, like the girls were the most piercing of blue, running themselves over every curve to her enchanting body. He looked at her with want hidden away within those haunted eyes, yet his yearning for sex was over powered by the abundant need for beating her to the ground. She was a Black, a powerful little witch if there ever was one. Yet he, oh he was a Crevan, a family known for their tempering in were magic. His parents had been killed due to the allegations against them. He and his brother were sent away, no mob would be responsible for the killing of children, but the gene his father carried was passed on within Tristan and his brother, both were born as were creatures, though a distinct strain. He had class for orphan, the money their parents had saved away had provided he and his brother with a more then comfortable life style. With all he owned, with all he had in the palm of his hand it never seemed to be enough. Always instigating, always searching for a way to the top he had found the one person who held a position over his head. A rich daddy's girl who happen to have her place handed to her on a silver platter. The idea of stealing away everything she had 'worked' for was more appealing to Tristan then living his life at Hogwarts picking on the smaller, more insignificant kids. His brother Levi had warned him yet he was too hot headed to pull out now.

While staring one another down it began to snow, the flakes falling from the sky in large hunks. They fell softly, landing on their skin like cold cotton before melting away into a cold puddle of water. Tristan was not entirely dressed for this occasion. His leather coat sporting the snow rather oddly before it slowly disappeared, while the large flakes clung to his turtleneck desperately. He looked as if he were going out to a party, not preparing himself for a fight. His chords keeping his legs warm as the snow appeared to melt away in the vicinity he had been standing in.

"You know…" Tristan of course was the first to speak, his voice calling out over the sound of the whipping willow branches. "We could just forget this, you could admit you want me and we could go for a little tumble in the shack… what do you say?" winking at her his words practically mocked her. Bellatrix wasn't exactly known for her sanctity after all. But it was typical of Tristan, thinking of his libido before he thought of what matters were at hand.

Bellatrix only scoffed at him, turning her nose up in disgust, "You pig, you brought me here for a fight, now draw your wand and let me beat you, I have other matters I must attend to.." she growled at him, the words drawn from the depth of her throat, rumbling within her chest as a snarl formed upon her lips. She was prepared for a battle of magical proportion, not for what she was about to receive.

His tongue struck the back of his teeth making a 'tisk' noise at her response, he was of course disappointed, though he expected no different from her proud highness Bellatrix Black, "that's too bad then, I could have turned your world inside out…" his response was of course cocky, though his desire for the touch of the opposite sex was undeniable. The idea of rape never bothered him before, what difference would it be now. He could beat her down until she begged for it, the idea proved most arousing. Yet she was unlike any female he had come across before, her scent was filled with power and confidence, the prowess of a warrior, the heart of a killer. Even at the distance he stood from her, he could feel the blood as it coursed through her veins. He watched her neck and the palpitations of her heart beneath her breast. Dangerously his tongue darted out and over his lips before he pressed them together. The cold dried away the moisture with its harsh burning sensation yet his body remained warm. The were blood which flowed within his veins kept the young man's body temperature stable, sheltering him from winters harsh reality. "You called this upon yourself you know…" leaving her with that warning he removed his coat, throwing it down into a pile of snow with no regard of its cost or the damage that might be done.

With no response Bellatrix drew her wand, hand held steady, arm outstretched before her. Her wrist had a certain crook to it, fingers wrapped greedily about the long slender stick. As she watched for a moment Tristan appeared to do nothing, he stood there, his coat gone, and the snow falling to rest in his crown of loosely curled hair. Impatiently she stood, quite still at that, her shoulders brought up slightly, the wind tearing her clothes away from her body. "hurry up then!" she finally cried, tired of the boys foolishness, "if you don't draw your wand I'll make you wish you had…" her threat was carried through the air as the willows branches struck the ground with a tremendous force. The ground shook and the forest cried the tree's bending in the wind, moaning as if they were in pain.

Such threats from such a small girl meant nothing, they were words spoken and stolen by the wind, their meaning held little validity, for what could she do to him, give him a nose bleed? His senses warned him of her power, yet he ignored everything but her voice, but her. She filled him, his entire being, even from the distance he could smell the faint scent of vanilla as it faded upon her neck. His heart beat echoed like pounding war drums, soon joined by another. She was so calm, so serene; she lacked fear, perhaps did not understand the concept, or did she under estimate him? Expect him to fight fairly? He was a Crevan son, and he would not let his… talents go to waste. Instead he stood, wand still tucked away in his coat pocket as she pointed hers, a steady aim at his chest. He watched her eyes as his arms raised, legs tucked tight together as he prepared himself for the strike, after all what could she hit him with. He would read her, watch her thinking as she ran through lists of spells, all no doubt powerful against any ordinary opponent, but he was far from ordinary. Maybe he was foolish, maybe stupid, he could see it in her eyes, what she thought of him, and it aroused him even more. He repulsed her, she wanted nothing more then to destroy him and yet he wanted her, terribly… what a vicious cycle he lived in.

"Fool…" she muttered, mind settling on one curse and oh it was a god one, "Aduro!" she commanded, allowing a heavy wind storm to fall from her wand. It spun wildly in torrent of madness, a tornado of fury engulfing her body. At first glace it would appear as if her spell had backfired, attacking her instead of Tristan, but within moments the winds ceased, all was still, even the willow seemed to pause in it's flailing. Suddenly, as if from nowhere knives pierced through the air, some landed before the young man others passed, and yet he dodged none, nor did he flinch. His eyes only closed, preparing himself for a blow. Annoyance boiled within Bellatrix as the boy went untouched, "Aduro!" she cried again, her voice filled with anger and hate, the winds spun wildly out of control, and yet another onslaught of knives directed itself upon Tristan.

He felt the cold sting of steel as the sharp blades rushed passed him, whistling wildly before striking the snow and disappearing into the air. He felt invincible, strong, that was until the sharp sting of the knives punctured his skin. His hand was the first target, through his palm, then his thigh and shoulder. Wincing he felt the burn of the steel opening his eyes to find he was in the path of numerous well placed knives. He grasped the knife within his thigh and tore it from his flesh. Bloody dripped from the blade as he threw it to the ground and watched it melt into the snow. "Bitch..." he muttered, pressing through the pain into a crouching position, drawing the next knife from his palm. The blade had gone right through, his wounds causing drops of crimson rain to cascade to the snow, littering it's purity with sparse speckles of blood. The object lodged within his shoulder on the other hand had been left too long, slowly it disappeared in a wisp of smoke leaving his dark turtleneck torn and stained. "You ripped my good pants!" he cried loudly, his thumb brushing over the corduroy material where the wound had ceased bleeding.

"Dendieen!" echoing throughout the night, leather whips sprung forth from her wand winding their way about Tristan's body. He thrashed about angrily as he fell under their power, struggling to steady himself, attempting to stand through the searing pain in his leg. He didn't look so tough now, all wrapped up and bleeding, this would prove an east fight after all. The cocky jerk was over confident, he believed her to be an easy opponent and she was clearly proving him wrong. "Watch me care.." she purred sadistically as she approached, her wand at the ready, pointing down to the boy as he kneeled, his torso confined to the leather ropes controlled by Bellatrix, "should I continue with the pain or will you admit that I am the victor…" snapping teeth before him she practically spat out the words in disgust, her foot raising to press against the boys shoulder. With one strong heavy heave she pushed him over, causing him to land face first in the snow.  
Anger built up within Tristan as he watched, pitying the girl as she pushed him about. His veins burnt like his body had been cast into a fire, wondrous pools of blue turned into a bloodshot mess. He felt his muscles tighten, contracting placing presser upon the ropes which bound him. "Stupid cunt…" he muttered, his voice a deepening growl, more animal then human. His jaw cracked loudly, head turning to the side as his teeth shifted and changed. Bellatrix watched in horror. His voice grew gruff, and dangerous, hands twisting about as his fingers elongated slightly. Now matter how hard he tried control was not an option. Balling his hands into fists as best he could he placed all his strength into his torso, working to break away his bounds. The snaps were heard, like whips cracking in the air, and he was free within minutes, springing forth to his feet as Bellatrix stumbled back. Her heartbeat became the only thing he heard, the only thing he could concentrate on, though amazingly it remained steady. She was force of calmness, watching with her nose turned up at his grotesque appearance, she had known of course what he was and walked into this fight anyway, brave? Or just incredibly stupid? No… She was a Black; she lived with the knowledge that if she did not win today it would prepare her for tomorrow, for there would always be a fight she could walk away from.

His breathing grew heavy, the pressure he placed upon his thigh caused the wound t break open and bleed heavily. The warm trickle down his leg and into the snow did not bother him though. He was utterly unaffected. Slowly as he took a step forth, his shoulders cracked loudly, thrown forwards, his body jerking madly. It was inevitable that this would happen, his hand now a bony mess, reaching out to grasp for Bellatrix, his body growing hair in random places.

"Alstvar!" she cried, her hand moving in a looped pattern before green sparks ignited from the end of her wand, throwing themselves upon Tristan's Body. The dark scent of burning flesh filled the air as Tristan's skin appeared to smolder away leaving patches of raw pink flesh over his hair ridden body. It didn't appear to bother him though, for he lunging at Bellatrix. His hand struck her throat, the other knocking her wand away from her firm grip and off into the snow. The weight of his body forced her down and onto her back. His breath escaped him into steam as he breathed upon her, sniffing her like an animal might its prey. The hand at her throat forced her head to the side, roughly, so that he might drag his tongue along the soft patch of skin open at his disposal. Beneath his body she wriggled and squirmed, her arms outstretched, groping the cold snow for her wand. She searched through the darkness, forcing out the words "lumos" her wand began to glow a short moment before it died away, "LUMOS!" she attempted to scream, her voice muffled by Tristan's heavy hand. She could feel his fingernails digging into her flesh, so sharp he might rip away at her neck had he tried. "LUMOS!" she forced it out once more, her wand just feet away igniting in a bright light. She was determined to get him off her, but his body was much too heavy to move.

She was dead, he was going to kill her, he was going to snuff out her life! All Tristan could think of was how pleasant it would be when he watched Bellatrix Black draw her final breath. Cocky and sure of himself he held her down in the snow, forcing her beneath him as he slowly drained her life away with his hand. Yet he wanted her to beg, he wanted to hear her scream for him to stop. Eyes practically red, he watched her closely, forcing her stair upon him. Her eyes were placid, calm as the night sky. She was not afraid, she had no fear, and this only made Tristan angrier, his grip tightening before a fist struck him along side of his head. Without her wand she had nothing other the brute strength and weak spells to fight the transforming Tristan off with.

As she went in for another punch Tristan stood up, dragging her to her feet. With outstretched arms he tossed her hard, hurtling her backwards into a nearby tree. Her body bent awkwardly, and then fell to the ground, causing snow to fall from the tree branches above and pile up on top of her broken form. It hurt like hell, her back ached and her throat burned. Rubbing her hand against the back of her neck she drew it around, against where Tristan had been holding her. His nails had dug in, ripping chunks of flesh away, leaving Bellatrix with open sores on her neck. The next move was to stand, her knees wobbling as she drew up to her feet, not standing long before Tristan lunged at her once more.

He jumped high into the air, coming down hard, his fists balled together. His intent was to strike her heavily, across her forehead, to knock her down. It all happened quite quickly, and once more Bellatrix found herself on her back lying in the snow. Tristan's wounds seeped their bloody tears all over Bellatrix's body. His claws grabbed at her flesh, ripping and tearing her skin open. Bleeding dangerously she searched for the light, hidden somewhere beneath the snow, "ACCIO WAND!" an arm stretched out desperately, though it was out of annoyance she desired his bulky form off of her. The pain didn't register. Her adrenaline was running on high as she demanded her wand back into her hand. Watching, it fidgeted in the snow, but refused to move.

Tristan merely laughed as his hands wrapped themselves about her throat once more. He had managed to get himself under control. The hair seeped back within his body, his facial features returned to normal, but the abnormal strength and amount of pressure he applied to her body seemed to increase heavily. "You… will… die…" he growled as her hands rose to grasp onto his neck.

Stunned at the persistence Tristan's head turned quickly, his jaw closing in on Bellatrix's wrist only to puncture a few main arteries. She girl flinched and drew away but remained determined in her fight. She rose her torso high attempting to knock him off, her legs rising up high in the air as he sat perched upon her. A cold gust of air happened to blow up her skirt. The snow landing against her backside, but what did a little cold matter now, her skin was practically blue as it was. The first attempt failed, her legs crashing back to the ground with a harsh blow, but she tried again, throwing her legs up to kick at Tristan's heavy form. Striking him hard she tried for another go, but he was too quick. He abandoned her neck and moved onto grasp the girls feet.  
"ACCIO WAND!" She demanded, this time louder then before.

"Shut up and die already!" he hollered at her, his fist drawing down heavily to strike her square cross the jaw. "It's no use, I won..." he raised his fist high in order to strike her again, but she stopped him.

Her hand wrapped about his fist as he tried to force it down. A look of sheer determination crossing her fair features as spit blood into his face. Her lip was bleeding from his first punch, and heavily too. Her jaw felt as if she had just been in a fight with a brick, but she would not let him get away with this, "you haven't won yet…" with all her might she forced his fist away from her. Though with all his weight he was just too heavy, her wrist faltered and his fist struck the snow, inches from her face. Powder melted against her warm skin as the were-boy drew up onto his feet, utterly astonished that Bellatrix would spit at him. His hand wiped away the blood while she lay there looking quite smug. At first it appeared as through Tristan might laugh, but instead he swung his foot in her direction and struck her across the side causing her to turn over, holding her body in pain. He said nothing, only kicked her again, with more force this time, his foot cracking heavily into the young woman's ribs.

Only now was her wand in reach. Curled in a ball Bellatrix reached out, grasping through piles of snow until her fingers found that small piece of wood. "Nox" with but a whisper she breathed the word, causing the light upon the end of her wand to die out. Tristan had wound up for a third kick when Bellatrix rose to her feet. Knees shaking at first as she attempted to steady herself. One arm was draped over her side while the other held her wand, extended towards Tristan's neck. The boy only laughed, over confident, a very large mistake.

"What… what are you going to do…? I won Bellatrix, you have been beaten… I could kill you now, don't you see that?"

Only this time it was her turn to laugh. Swallowing hard she pressed forwards, Tristan merely humoring the little one. He ignored the determination and power hidden within her eyes, too arrogant to notice she was not weakened as much as he had initially thought. "Shut up…" she demanded, "just shut up… "Pressing her wand into his throat she scowled, "first mistake Tristan… you let me have my wand… second mistake Tristan… you didn't kill me…" Dangerously Angry, the wind tore about them, trees bending in fear. The willow moaned as its massive limbs cut through the calm night sky. All seemed wild, the forest and all its inhabitance were aware of moment, the earth screamed loudly beneath them as the cold stung Bellatrix's face. Her skin practically blue, all she could think of was a nice warm bath after she was done all this… before the pain truly set in… and in that moment she smiled, head cocking to the side ever so slightly so that dark strands of ebony satin kissed her paling cheeks.

"CRUCIO!" yes, one of the unforgivable curses, Bellatrix was brave enough to use it. Her voice echoed loudly throughout the night, the willow stopped in it's wailing about, and all was finally still in the world. Snow drifted to the earth like tiny dancers. In the distance the thestral's cry could be heard, a mournful and horrid screech as Tristan fell to the ground in pain. It was unlike anything he had felt before, his body burning from every inch to the other. It felt as if his skin was being stripped off his body, layer by layer… like his insides were being roasted over an open fire…  
Laying on the ground his body was thrown about, tossing and turning as he covered himself in snow in order to dim the burning sensation. It was pain beyond being pain, but he deserved it. Bellatrix stood with her eyes on him, watching in delight as he screamed, though she faltered, arm falling a moment, a break in the spell. Her ribs stung, body bleeding. The warm flow of blood could be felt coursing down over her skin towards the snow covered floor. Tristan's eyes closed as he arched his back, it was unlike any transformation he had ever endured, it was worse, and she was relentless in her attack.

Finally the young girl fell, her knees crashing into the snowy ground, her breath heavy. The curse had taken a bit of her energy, yet it would not cease until he escaped from her presence. Weak now he let out a loud beastly growl, throwing himself into the darkness of the forest. He was barely able to walk, slinking into the shadows, incapable of speech…and in desperate need of licking his wounds.

Bellatrix on the other hand looked towards the night sky, her heart beat heavily within her chest… body falling back into the snow. Her form shook with laughter as she watched the flakes fall upon her face, opening her mouth to catch them upon her tongue as she did when she was younger. For a moment she began to reminisce, when she, Narcissa and Sirius use to play in the snow. When they were young and carefree, when they were all friends, with no need to follow what was expected of them. Those days were gone, her friendship with Sirius was gone, her friendship with her sister was… shall we say, complicated, but all she could think about was that nice warm bath…

Drawing up she stretched, her joints cracking with a disgusting pop. The snow was littered with blood, their fight was evident but with the coming snow it would be no more then a memory. Their tracks covered and all traces of their meeting erased. Turning to leave she noticed something… his jacket. Sewn into the lining was the Irish Flag, Southern Ireland. With a smirk she drew it up from the snow, dropping her now tattered and ripped robes onto the ground before pulling the jacket over her shoulders. A bit big, but a trophy all the same, he could now watch her wear it and remember… who beat whom that night… and off she headed towards the castle…

* * *

Just a small short story thing... Tristan is obviously my own character... I didn't know if this should be posted as restricted or not... but to be on the safe side I'm putting it there anyway. Please tell me what you think, I know my style is a little RP ish... please no hardcore flaming. :D  
Just as a little background, if you couldn't tell, Bellatrix is, what Tristan considers a rival... he wants power and she has it... simple as that :) any questions feel free to ask... and yeah, thanks for reading!


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